The Betrayal

by Linda Tweedie

  The next morning he made his excuses to Bridget and set off for the meeting.

  “What is this cargo?” Paddy asked.

  “You’ll see for yourself in a minute,” the crime boss replied enigmatically.

  Paddy kept quiet until the car pulled up alongside the berth. The two men got out and walked towards the loading bay. Paddy spied a container positioned away from the main stack.

  “This is it,” said Nick, signalling to one of the stevedores to open the metal box.

  At first glance Paddy thought the container was empty, but he could make something out, way at the back. The heat was overpowering and sweat was dripping into his eyes within seconds. He hoped this wasn’t some set up, but in the dark he could just make out the figure of a man, bound to a chair; his hands, feet and mouth taped.

  “Do you know who this piece of trash is, Paddy?” With a vicious kick, Nick overturned the chair and sent it sprawling into a pool of urine and faeces.

  “No, but I can guess.”

  “This is the piece of garbage who let your grandson almost starve to death. All because he hadn’t been paid a measly thousand euros. It costs exactly the same amount to send this container to the Far East and takes almost the same length of time as the boy has spent in hospital. What do you say? Punishment enough?”

  “An eye for an eye,” replied Paddy as he swung the heavy metal door shut and sealed it. No-one could hear the muffled cries.

  Ryan was to be discharged from hospital the following day. The doctors had just finished their rounds, during which time the guard had nipped out to have a quick break. O’Farrell knew the hospital routine like the back of his hand; this was his only chance. He slipped into the room, pulled the blinds down; this usually indicated the doctors had not finished their examinations. He gathered the child, wrapped him in a hospital blanket, hid him under his voluminous cleric’s coat and headed for the lift.

  “C’mon. C’mon,” he urged the lift to descend. He had only a couple of minutes to get away.

  The lift reached the ground floor. The doors opened slowly and he came face to face with Bridget Coyle. He pushed past her, Ryan well hidden beneath his coat. She stood stock still. Who was he? She knew him. Then she heard a baby cry.

  “Stop! Stop that man,” she yelled at the top of her voice, taking off after him. Fortunately the guard was on his way back when he heard the commotion. What the hell was going on? An old priest was tearing towards him, holding a baby, and chased by the woman whose grandchild he was supposed to be guarding.

  He dived on the old man and grabbed the child, who had tumbled from the cleric’s grasp. O’Farrell managed to twist free in the melee and disappeared into a crowd alighting from a newly-arrived lift. He walked as fast as he could, head down, making no eye contact in order to avoid attention. He shook off his coat and discarded it in the nearest bin, revealing one of his wild Hawaiian shirts.

  He couldn’t keep up this pace, he’d have a heart attack. He needed a safe hiding place until the situation calmed down. Turning into Accident & Emergency he spied a nurse walking towards him. Quick as a flash the old man clutched his chest and stumbled to the floor.

  The nurse sprang into action and pressed the nearest panic button and within seconds the ex-priest was surrounded by the crash team. Fortuitously they blocked the entrance to the department, thus thwarting his pursuers who sped on in search of the elusive priest.

  It was late afternoon before Canon O’Farrell ventured forth into the bright Marbella sunshine. That had been a close shave, but at least he knew his heart was in full working order, he smiled wryly.

  Unexpected

  “Are you sure you don’t mind? It’s just that I feel I owe so much to the man. Nothing seems enough to thank him. And we’re on our way home tomorrow.”

  “Of course I don’t mind watching my grandson, but are you sure you want to go to dinner with Nick on your own? He’s a bit old for you and certainly in a different league. You know his reputation.”

  “He’s thirty-five, Mum, not bloody Methuselah. And I’m only having dinner, not eloping.”

  “What did your dad say when you told him?”

  “I haven’t said anything to him, it’s none of his business. Look, I’ll be back around eleven.”

  Bridget watched from the balcony as the tall, stunning girl climbed into the convertible and kissed the driver on the cheek. She knew immediately they were a couple, there was no denying it. How the hell was she going to break this to Paddy?

  “Have you spoken to your parents?” Nick asked his dinner date.

  “Not yet, I just couldn’t find the right time. Heaven knows if there will ever be a right time. They’re just coming to terms with all that’s happened over the past while and I want to make sure we’re solid before I go springing this on them. Mind you, I think my mother sus-pects something. She questioned me before I left. She thinks you’re too old for me and listen to this − way out of my league.”

  “She’s right, Erin. I am older and I’ve certainly lived a colourful life. There’s always the possibility that I could be extradited back to Britain. It’s only natural if you’re having second thoughts.”

  “Second thoughts? Are you trying to put me off? ‘Cause you’re not succeeding. Let’s face it, my family are not exactly goat herders and there’s also the two months I spent in jail. That wasn’t a Swiss finishing school. I know what I want, and it’s you. If they don’t approve then that’s their loss, but I don’t want to fall out with them if I can help it.”

  “Neither do I, but it’s not going to be plain sailing.”

  Over the past months, since Paddy had asked for his help, Nick had grown more and more fond of the stoic, brave, beautiful young woman who had fought tooth and nail to find her son. Never giving up and seldom complaining, she was definitely his kind of woman. But there were a few major obstacles in their way.

  It was unlikely Paddy and Bridget would give their blessing willingly and he could under-stand why: his reputation for starters. Nick was, without a doubt, a top face, both in London and here on the Costas. At the ripe old age of thirty-five he had been married twice already. One ex-wife had met a violent and untimely death at the hands of one of Nick’s enemies. The other had turned Queen’s evidence, hence the reason for Nick’s exile.

  They had agreed that Erin would return home for a short while, during which time he would look after her business interests. The Marbella Princess had been leased out to a busi-ness associate of Nick’s. This would give Erin and Ryan a good income, no matter how things between them turned out.

  The evening went by in a flash. How was she going to say goodbye to him, even for a short while? Only a few months ago she would have sworn that Bobby Mack was her soul-mate and she had been desolate when he was killed. But her feelings for Nick were com-pletely different, totally incomparable. This man kept her safe, would do anything to make her happy and go to any length to please her. He had rescued her son and saved his life. They were made for one another. And the sex was incredible.

  By the time Erin arrived home Bridget had completed their packing. Her father was lazing on the balcony with a nightcap. “Nice time?” he asked.

  “Mm, yes, we went to a quiet little place down by the marina.”

  Not quite ready to hear about his daughter enjoying time with Nick the Greek, Paddy changed the subject. “Have you decided what you’re going to do when you get back home? Your mother says you’re thinking of getting your own place.”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Of course not. You’re a big girl now. We’ll get on to it as soon as we get back.”

  “I thought you would have a fit,” Erin breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Not at all. Now off to bed, we’ve got an early start.”

  Erin tossed and turned most of the night. Why the devil was she going all the way back to Scotland, only to return in a few weeks? What was the point? She wasn’t going to feel any different. A quick call the next morning co
nfirmed her change of plans.

  “Who the hell’s here at this time of the morning?” Bridget muttered to herself as she an-swered the intercom.

  “It’s Nick.”

  “Nick?”

  “Yes. Erin phoned me.”

  “Why?”

  “You better ask her. Can I come up?”

  Bridget pressed the buzzer and seconds later their visitor arrived.

  “Paddy.” Nick nodded to the Big Man. “Bridget.” He turned to Erin, “Have you told them?”

  “Not yet. Here, take my cases to the car while I explain.”

  Without a word Nick did as she asked.

  “What’s going on?” asked a perplexed Paddy.

  “It’s quite simple, Dad. I asked you last night if you would mind if I moved out.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I just did.”

  “Just did what?”

  “Moved out. Well, actually, I’m about to move in.”

  “Where? I don’t understand. And what’s he doing here? Christ, you haven’t asked him to drive us to the airport, Erin? That’s taking the piss, girl.”

  “He’s not driving you anywhere, but Ryan and I are going with him. I’m not coming home, Dad. I’m staying here.”

  “Jesus, not this bloody scenario again, Erin. It’s becoming a bit played out, girl.”

  “Paddy, she’s staying here with me.” Nick walked back into the room and interrupted the conversation.

  “What? Why on earth would she be staying with you? She can’t stay out here on her own.”

  “She won’t be on her own, Paddy, she’ll be with me.”

  “With you? What the hell would she be doing out here with you?”

  “Do you want me to spell it out?”

  “Christ, you’re old enough to be her father. No way. She’s coming home with us and there’s no more to be said.”

  “Dad, I’m staying.”

  “What have you got to say about this?” Paddy spun round to face Bridget. “No doubt you knew all about it.”

  “No-one knew anything. We didn’t know ourselves until just a few weeks ago,” answered Erin. “You knew the night you met Mum that you were going to be together, so why can’t it be the same for me?”

  “It’s just different. Have you any idea what kind of life you’ll have with him? He’s wanted in God knows how many countries.”

  “Only two,” Nick answered. “And we’ve already discussed this.”

  “If you stay here I’ll wash my hands of you,” shouted her father. “How’s he going to feel bringing up another man’s child?”

  “If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t be bringing him up, but burying him,” replied Erin. “Please, Dad, give us your blessing. I promise you it’s the real thing.”

  “Give it a few weeks and she’ll be back home.”

  “I can’t take that chance, Bridget. I know more than most what she’ll have to put up with and I want more for my daughter.”

  “I give you my word, Paddy. I’ll take good care of her,” Nick vowed.

  “You can’t do that. You can’t stand there and promise me you’ll take care of her because you don’t know what’s ahead of you.”

  “Neither do you, Dad. Nor did Diane and Bobby, so I’m willing to take the chance.”

  The argument raged back and forth for the next half hour or so, neither party convincing the other.

  Reluctantly, Bridget persuaded Paddy they should leave for the airport.

  “I’m telling you, I’m finished with her.” Paddy ranted all the way to the airport.

  Checking in was a nightmare and the belligerent passenger cussed his way across the con-course and headed straight for the bar

  “For the love of God, Paddy, shut up! There’s nothing we can do for the moment.”

  “There is no ‘for the moment’. As far as I’m concerned she’s on her own, and don’t think for one moment that’s a happy-ever-after scenario. That bastard will dump her as soon as he’s had his fill.”

  “Just like you’re doing with me?” said Bridget sadly.

  “Me dump you?” Paddy asked incredulously. “Whatever made you think that?”

  “We haven’t exactly been love’s young dream lately,” his wife replied.

  “No, but everybody has ups and down and although your bloody menopausal behaviour has been hard to take, there is no way I would leave you or call it a day on our marriage.”

  “What about Erin and Ryan? I couldn’t live with you if you cut them off.”

  “You know bloody well I’m not going to do that. But I’ll miss that wee boy and I don’t want him brought up by the bugger we’ve just left him with.”

  “You’ll have to learn to trust Erin, she’s a smart girl. After all, look who her father is.”

  Paddy smiled back at her, his temper cooling down.

  “Do you ever regret she was the only one?”

  “Of course I do, but it wasn’t to be, was it?” Paddy drained his glass and made to stand up.

  “Hang on a minute, Paddy.” Bridget ordered another drink for her husband. “Here, I think you’re going to need this.” She handed him a large scotch.

  “For fuck’s sake, Bridget! Can you not leave it till we get home? I don’t know if I can take any more shit,”

  “Okay, but I did think you’d want to know right now that you’re not going to have time to miss Ryan.”

  “Eh?”

  “You’re not going to have time to miss him.”

  “You’ve not bought a pissing dog, have you? I’ve no time for bloody walkies. You can take it back as soon as we get home.”

  “Not a dog, Paddy, a baby.”

  “A baby? I’m too old for bloody adoption or fostering. Sorry, but it’s a no go.”

  “No, Paddy. Listen, will you? You’re right about my hormones, but I’m only thirty-nine. I’m far too young for the menopause, but not too old to be pregnant.”

  The busy airport almost came to a halt at the roar let out by the big Scotsman.

  For a sneak preview of the sequel to The Betrayal

  THE RECKONING

  Read on . . .

  New Beginnings

  “You’re what? At your age?” Lizzie Coyle leapt off her chair. The chair she’d barely moved from since the day she’d buried her son, Sean. Hugging Paddy and her daughter-in-law, she could hardly believe their news. “Bridget, pregnant, would you believe it?”

  “Yes, I can hardly believe it myself,” smiled Bridget. “I take it you’re happy at the news?”

  “Happy, I’m feckin’ delirious,” shouted the old lady gleefully. “Well, you certainly must have settled your differences,” she chuckled. “Good God, pregnant after all this time. It’s a miracle that’s what it is, a bloody miracle.”

  “It certainly is Lizzie, and after all we’ve been through in the last year it’s about time we had something to celebrate.”

  “What’s Erin got to say about this? Where is she, by the way?” Lizzie realised her granddaughter and great grandson were missing.

  “She’s still in Spain,” Paddy informed his mother.

  “Still in Spain? Whatever for?”

  “It’s a long story, Ma. We’ll tell you later.”

  “No, you won’t tell me later, you’ll tell me now. Is she and the wee lad okay? I take it they’re safe or you wouldn’t be standing here.”

  “They’re fine, Ma. She’s met someone.”

  “Holy Mother of God! She’s been on the pull while her bairn was kidnapped? Well, that takes the bloody biscuit,” exploded Paddy’s mother. “We’re all worried sick about her and she’s getting her end away.”

  “That’s not how it was,” Bridget jumped to her daughter’s defence.

  “No?” queried Paddy.

  “Look, everything’s fine. Don’t let’s spoil this news by arguing over Erin’s decision. She’s a grown woman and quite capable of making her own choices. What does a mother-to-be have to do to get a cup of tea in this house?�
��

  Still grumbling Lizzie went off to make tea for her visitors.

  “Hey, Ma, what’s happened here?” Paddy called through to his mother, having noticed the kitchen window boarded up.

  “Bloody kids, that’s what. It’s the second time in a week it’s happened. If I catch the little feckers I’ll tan their arses, so I will.”

  “The second time?” Paddy repeated. “It would have to be kids, there’s not a soul brave enough around here to take me on.”

  “A gang of youngsters have taken to hanging about outside. Drinking and carrying on and when I chase them I just get a load of abuse.”

  “What does our Errol have to say about it?”

  “Nothing, he’s very quiet, in fact I think he’s a bit scared.”

  “Rubbish, there’s not an ounce of fear in that lad. There’s more to this than meets the eye.”

  “I’m not so sure, you know he’s never been right since his wee pal was murdered.” Lizzie had never been told about Sean’s involvement in the boy’s disappearance and Paddy aimed to make sure she never did.

  “Bridget, I’ve got some business to see to so you stay with Ma for a bit and I’ll catch you back home.”

  As Paddy left his mother’s house he was aware of half a dozen youths loitering on the corner.

  “Fuck off you lot and don’t let me see you hanging around here again. Now move.” He made to walk toward the group.

  They dispersed in different directions, shouting abuse and laughing, all except one. The boy Riley swaggered towards Paddy. “Is there a problem, Mr. Coyle?” The cocky young lad called out.

  “You’ll have a problem, ya cheeky young cunt, if I catch you hanging around here.”

  “It’s a free country, Mr Coyle.”

  “Not where my family are concerned it’s not. Now fuck off before I get serious.”

  Paddy Coyle couldn’t believe he was engaged in an argument with a two-bit street dealer. “Now, I won’t tell you again, piss off.”

  With the same insolent air, Tommy Riley swaggered off down the road towards his pitch.